Today
by Matrix-Twin1
Summary: Umm... totally random... another selfinsert, this time with Les Amis... sort of a crazy self discovery thing... meh...
1. Forced Entry

"...there is no way to go OOOOONNNN!!!!!!!" Ignoring the stares of passersby, I dragged myself, dramatically, through the snow. Stumbling up the steps, cursing, I stabbed cold, mittened hands at the lock for a while, until the key finally made it into the hole. I turned it. Nothing. I tried the other way. Still nothing. Back the other way...and the door opened. Shaking my head, I tossed my shaggy bangs back, wincing at the bursts of pain this sent through my head. (I'm never sure if the headaches are _from_ the head-shakage, or simply aggravate them). Trudging up the stairs, still cursing everything possible, I managed another couple stumbles, and lost my backpack back down the stairs.

Thoroughly irritated, I finally made my way to her door, got it open, allowed it to shut, and leaned back against it. I thought for a second, waiting for an appropriate lyric to cross my mind. It was, interestingly enough, another from Javvy's suicide: "...instead I live, but live in hell..." I quickly threw off my winter things, dumped the backpack, petted my cat, and noticed that mom wasn't around. I shrugged, idly, tossing my bangs yet again. Heaving the backpack, I lurched to my room, bouncing off several walls (that's what I do, go figure...) Tossing my backpack in its usual spot (any clear floor space) I glanced up. Right into the eyes of...

"Jehan???!!!"

The poet, for it was him, looked absolutely startled. "Y-you know my name..."

Combeferre, sitting on the bed, legs crossed, leaning against the wall, held up a copy of LM (unabridged, of course). "She must know from this book. We're all in it..."

"Sssshh!!!" Enjolras, without looking up from the Revolution book that I (unfortunately) left laying on the floor.

I blinked. Opening my eyes again, I glanced around. Enjy was perched on the edge of the bed, reading. 'Ferre was in the aforementioned location, Jehan was standing right in front of me, in the middle of the room, staring at the posters. Grantaire had found my bottles of Tanqueray (purely for decoration, I assure you!) and was happily sitting on my frock coat pieces, smashed out of his mind. I smiled at him before moving on. Joly was attempting to look in the mirror while sneezing frantically, Courfeyrac was idly staring at pictures of me, with an expression that was, quite frankly, disturbing... Bahorel was happily going through my clothes, Bossuet was examining my shelves, and Feuilly was studying the history book, leaning against my desk. I blinked again. They were still there, all (with the exception of Enjy and R) staring at me.

"Uh... hi?"

They looked blank. Enjolras glared at me. I glared back.

"Ok, what the hell is going on, why are you in my room, and..._stop looking at them like that_!"

Courfey' at least had the decency to look away and look slightly ashamed. But, two seconds later, I saw him checking me out. I sighed.

Joly shrugged before resuming his sneezing and checking. I grimaced, my mirror was covered in...germs...

I moved into the center of the (very crowded) room, trying to get everyone's attention. Enjolras pointedly ignored me, Grantaire was still passed out, Cour was staring at...not my face...'Ferre looked vaguely scandalized by whatever he was reading, Joly appeared to be dying, along with my mirror, Bahorel looked like he had been given a huge treat, but I didn't even want to go into that, Feuilly had dropped the rather heavy book into an, uh, awkward position, and Bossuet was laughing at him. I did the only thing I could.

"Um, Enjolras?"

"Go away, little Gamine."

I grabbed the book. He made little incoherent noises, grasping for it. I held it behind my back. "You'll get it back..." he nodded, he was clearly used to getting his way, "IF!"

He sneered. "You know my name, you obviously don't know who I am... Give me the book, now. I don't 'if'."

"If," I continued, "you get their attention."

He shrugged and straightened his shoulders. Everyone but R was now looking at him.

"Wow... could you teach me that?"

He glared again.

"Uh, sorry... Um, I need R, too..."

With no effort to be gentle, Bahorel, who was closest, kicked R in the shin. I glowered, but no one noticed, and R sat up, muttering. Bahorel had a strange look that could only be described as 'satisfaction'. I sensed payback, but had other things to worry about.

"Ok. Guys. What is going on?"

"Don't you know?" 'Ferre, of course.

"Yeah..." I sensed I was losing the others, so I waved my arms around a little, and glared at Cour, who was trying to catch a peek of something. "No, I have no idea."

"Where are we?"

"My room... Courfeyrac! Or should I say _de_ Courfeyrac, if you look at me like that one more time I will personally...! Um. Canada. Saskatoon. Saskatchewan. Not France..."

"Good alcohol!"

I grinned at R, which he seemed to appreciate. "Yeah, tastes like..."

"...limes..."

The others glared, especially Enjy. "Ok. Woah. Logic...logic logic logic... Oh, it's also not 1832. Or, anywhere near. It's 2004..."

No one was listening, but hey, I'd told them. "Well, whatever. You're here. Yay. This is...so cool..."

"This wall is a little cold..." Ferre piped up.

I ground my teeth, slightly. "OK. I need to think. Think think think... Erm, whatever. You don't seem too upset, so s'all good."

"This strange girl talks like R..."

"I did hear that, Feuilly. And I am not drunk. We just talk like that here."

At this point, Enjolras stood up. "Alright, Mlle.---whatever you said your name was..."

"I didn't. It's Tanqueray." I offered a hand, which ignored. I had been expecting this, it was a test to see if it was really Enjy. Yeah.

Grantaire peered at the bottle, then back at me. I was really glad I wasn't going out with Margarita. I frowned meaningfully, and he nodded. Not the time...

"Well, Mlle. Tanqueray—"

"It's, uh, just Tanqueray..."

He glared. I sensed he wasn't big with the interruptions. "Whatever!"

"Oh, god... that was priceless... I wish I had a video camera!"

Grantaire laughed along with me. The others just stared, looking somewhat horrified. I glanced around, glared at Cour', and saw that Bahorel had joined Bossuet at my shelves. I winced, thinking of destruction, but everything was alright for the moment.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry, M. Enjolras. Please, continue."

He stared at me, haughtily. But, I was too happy to really care. "Yes. Now. We have a revolution to plan, so we need to find a way to get out of...wherever this is...and back to France. So, if you would please move."

With that, he began giving orders. I was impressed; even I would have followed him (and his cute $$) to certain death at a barricade. "Combeferre, Feuilly, bring those books, they might be useful. Grantaire, put the bottle down. Bahorel, those are whatever pass for women's garments in this ! You have heard mademoiselle! She wishes for you not to stare it her in that obscene manner! Joly, for the last time, your tongue is the same as always, come along! Jehan, please put that cat down, it's a wonder it hasn't scratched you already!" All, except Grantaire, quickly obeyed. He did line up, but not quickly. And he brought the bottle. Bossuet was already waiting outside in the hall.

"Uh ah agbh!" Go me, Miss Coherent...

Enjolras turned. "What was that, Mlle?"

"Um, you can't go! I won't—I mean, you can't! There is no way for you to get to France..." I had an idea... "Unless, you do what I say." I paused to clear my throat dramatically, sidling closer to the light switch. "You see, I am a powerful, uh, magic person...obey me, and I will return you to your time and place!" With that, I hit the lights, turning them off. It was only a little darker, being mid-afternoon.

No one looked impressed.

"See! I can make light..." I turned it back on, "and take it away again!" turning it off.

Joly smiled, patronizingly.

I thought, frantically. "Ah, but this is nothing! See what else I can do!" Fortunately, my computer was on. I would have hated to wait for it to boot up (this is a slow bit of magic, be patient!). Shoving various revolutionaries out of the way, I walked back to my desk, jiggled the mouse, and thought of the most impressive thing I could do. They gathered around me, curious. With the possible exception of Enjolras. I didn't check. At last, I thought of a Suitably Impressive Feat (SIF). Clicking the paint icon, I randomly selected a colour, made random swirls with different tools, and changed colours occasionally. They were mildly interested, but still not sure. Then, I printed two copies, giving one to Feuilly and one to Jehan. Now, I had their attention.

Enjolras considered for a moment. "Well, mademoiselle, what would you have us do in exchange for your services?"

I loved the way he talked. And, I already had this part worked out. "In return, you each have to spend one full day with me, and do stuff I say. But, we'll do what you want, too..." I trailed off, stopping the babblefest. I felt a little bad for cheating them, but I figured they'd just pop back eventually. So, they might as well have something to do. I swiveled to face them, gauging reactions. Most of them (I noted Cour's eager nodding) looked willing enough, if only so I would help them. That was good enough for me. At last, Enjolras nodded, slightly. I happily flopped on the bed, squinched my eyes, and flailed around a little, uttering little sounds of joy. Unfortunately, I forgot I had an audience. Fortunately, no one had really noticed, they were looking around some more.

Just then, Ferre brought up the point I had hoped he had forgotten.

"This book? How does it have us in it?"

Bahorel looked ready to beat something, so I tried to think of a reasonable, but brief, answer. "Um, well...It's because you're all so famous, they wrote a book about you!"

Enjolras looked pleased. I don't think Grantaire believed me, but he kept quiet. I silently thanked him, and he gave a little nod.

Now, I had nine men in my room, for the next nine days at least. What to do about them? Where would they sleep (heh)? Food? Clothes? I was getting a little overwhelmed, glad I was already sitting. Those problems, I decided, would just have to wait.


	2. Minichapter

Mini-chapter:

(Decided to continue this story, but change it)…

As soon as the rest of the Amis reached 7-11, they instantly found themselves transported back to 19th Century France, missing their leader and wine cask, but going about their lives as best they could.


	3. Day One

Day One: Grantaire

As it turned out, large amounts of food, wine and clothing had appeared during the night, so that problem at least was dealt with. I sat up, a little groggily. There are disadvantages to having Grantaire in close proximity. Everyone else was already awake, going about their business (or drinking it, in R's case). I caught a whiff of the latest bottle, which smelled divine. I ambled over, expecting a struggle to pry it away, but he offered me a glass readily. I drank it, quickly. He drank his, just as quickly. (He hadn't moved onto drinking straight from the bottle, yet). I poured another, drank it. And here, things got stupid.

Without talking, I fetched the discarded bottle of Tanqueray (the 1 litre one, I suppose :D), opened it, poured us each a glass. So the drinking contest began. Gradually, most of the ami drifted over, with the exception of Enjolras, and I'm pretty sure money changed hands. Most bet on Grantaire. They hadn't seen me in action. I was once able to drink half a bottle of wine followed by about 525 mL of gin...Totally random information...anyway.... (I'm still recovering from said incident, so forgive me if this chapter is incomprehensible and/or full of alcohol. heh)

Very soon, the glasses were abandoned, with the two of us fighting over the bottle (aw, I'm sorry I bit you....I hope it wasn't hard...), with les amis laughing hysterically. Finally Enjolras stepped in. At the site of him, both Grantaire and I dove for the corner. As we had already been entwined from our wrestling, and we were both aiming for the same location, we smashed our heads together, rather spectacularly. The amis began to sidle away, sensing the eruption of mount Enjolras. Unfortunately, both myself and Grantaire were too stunned to move much, or do anything but groan. Luckily, we were so drunk that we both survived the impact. Enjolras was not amused.

"Well, Grantaire, now that you're quite finished corrupting the youth..." he paused, looking at me, sucking my shirt to absorb spilled gin, and the nearly empty bottle. "Who, admittedly, were fairly corrupt already..."

By this point, I had had enough. "Enough!" said I, trying to stand up. By sort of using Grantaire as a ladder, I managed the task, looking Enjolras in the eye. Or, the chin... "I can't believe that you, Enjolras, who rant on and on about 'freedom' and 'equality' still have the audacity to treat Grantaire like this! Or me." I added, as an after thought.

He looked genuinely shocked. He stammered a little, then nodded, slightly. He didn't speak.

I was astonished. I had just beaten Mr. Masterdebator? Hey, maybe I should join the debate team... Which made me think. Donna would want to be here. Waving ami aside, I weaved my way to the phone (ya ya, wove...I like weaved better... It's weaving, not woving...anyway...)

"Donna? Hi...Umm...no, haven't had any more to drink. I think...anyway. You have to come over. No, my mom's not here. I don't know! Take the bus, you don't want to miss this. Oh, wait, I have had more to drink. What? Oh, um, well...the amis are here. Yes, I have been drinking! I mean...yes, but...please, please please come, I think Enjolras is gonna kill me...Ok, I'll try that, but hurry."

I turned back, grinning. "Ok, guys, me and Grantaire are going out...somewhere...to do...something...but you're going to have company. Her name's Donna, she's a lot like Enjolras, yay yay..."

They blinked, then nodded. I swear, they had to translate what I said...silly non-teenese speakers...

I meandered back to Grantaire. "Can you stand and/or walk?"

He nodded. "Of course I can! I've hardly begun!"

I grinned. This was too great. But I still had no idea what to do.

So, I decided to wait for Donna. She was my Enjolras, she'd know what to do. Something in my voice must have alerted her to the gravity of the matter, as she arrived much sooner than I would have expected. I let her in, and led her down the hall. For some time before reaching my room, ami-y sounds could be heard, but I didn't comment. She halted my swaying progress, turning me to face her.

"Grantaire? Why does it sound like there are a bunch of men in your room?"

An answering, and definitely male, voice that I recognized as Grantaire replied, "Because there are a bunch of men. But it's not my room."

Her eyes widened. Abandoning me to my own devices, she bolted for my room. I staggered as quickly as possible, arriving just in time to see her leaning on the door frame, eyes wide, mouth working soundlessly.

"Donna," I said, unable to avoid grinning, "meet les amis de l'ABC..."

"Wha-bu-how?"

"That's my job." Grantaire and I said it at the same time. I mock-frowned at him.

"Um, well, introductions...If you need them. Guys, this is Enj—um, Donna. Donna, please save me." With that, I hid in the corner with Grantaire and some of his wine.

Donna didn't attempt to speak at first. She strode over to the 'drunkard's corner', glowering at the pair of inebriates. We both cowered more. She seized our wine, despite our frantic pleas and poorly coordinated efforts to reclaim it.

As it happened, Enjolras had removed his vest to sleep, and had yet to don it. Donna, spying this, commandeered it. Once wearing the 'vest of power', she instantly had everyone's attention. With the exception of Enjolras.

"Y'know..." muttered Grantaire, "I always thought it might be the vest..."

Enjolras actually had a facial expression. And not even one of his regular, if infrequent, ones. No, this was one of pure, undiluted hatred. He now resembled a blonde tomato. Grantaire and I made ourselves as small as possible, trying very, _very_ hard not to laugh. The other ami made use of the limited hiding spots. Soon, only Donna and Enjolras were visible, facing each other in the middle of the room. I was unbelievably glad that neither of them were armed.

Donna looked completely unfazed. She just launched into a random law ramble. "It's not actually theft, which I know you're thinking about. Theft is to cause something to become movable, but because the window was open, it was movable anyways. Therefore even though I moved the vest, it was already movable and because of the letter of the law, not stolen."

This made no sense to anyone else in the room, not even those in law school. Apparently, it made sense to Enjolras, as he lost his tomatoesque visage, looking contemplative.

What followed was a rather lengthy discussion of law. I didn't understand a word, so I leaned against Grantaire and fell asleep to the sound of him snoring.

By the time I woke up, I was no longer afraid that Enjolras would attempt to kill me. Mock me, kick me and spew long, incomprehensible law jargon at me, but not kill directly. I poked Grantaire awake, regretting ever having brought Enjolras and Donna together. They were both looking at us, and it was enough to send cold shivers down my spine. Grantaire shoved me away, obviously trying to dissociate himself (ack! Chemistry test on Tuesday! Umm... I mean...). At this point, for no apparent reason, except possibly fear, all the other ami left, to go live in the back room of 7-11 until needed. (ooh, got 82 on the test, go me :D anyway...) Yes. They went off to pursue their individual interests, and reek havoc somewhere else. This also substantially simplified the plot, allowing for more posts, which means more happy readers, which means an increase in world happiness. Yay. Anyway...

Eventually, Enjolras and Donna stopped staring at us, as we tried to appear as innocent as possible, and went back to discussing incomprehensible law...things... Grantaire leaned over, the smell of the delicious wine still on his breath, and whispered, "What say we go somewhere else, Cheri?"

I thought that was pretty sweet...and nothing says sexy like a French accent, plus, it was Grantaire...I nodded. "Like what?"

He waved his arm, as if to say, 'the world is ours'.

I grinned, standing with only a little difficulty. Checking that D & E were still ranting to each other, we snuck out, discussing various options.

Unbeknownst (I love that word...) to fanfictionme, Enjolras and Donna, while talking, each knew their individual 'Grantaire's enough to keep an eye on us. So, our 'perfect escape' was in fact duly noted and prepared for. Which is to say, we were followed at a discreet distance.

The fresh air served to sober us, at least somewhat, and at first we simply wandered around, enjoying the warm, summer air (gack, I wish...god I hate winter...-49!! What kinda crap is that!!!! anyway...) Grantaire had quite a good time, just wandering 8th Street in his (kick ass) 19th century clothes, examining the wonders of modern society. Eventually, however, we hit the nightclub/bar bit, and while I managed to convince him that the night clubs weren't open, we came to The Copper Mug. Which had people streaming in and out.

"Clearly," said he, "This establishment is open, so we can get more alcohol here."

"Um, yes, well, you see, there's a little thing called the legal drinking age..."

He turned, appraising me. "You're, what, 16? That's old enough to work, marry, and die, certainly old enough to drink."

This is why reasoning with people from other time periods fails. Especially when they're also drunk. I sighed. "Yes, well, it is...except for marrying, without a parent/guardian's permission, or drinking, outside the home."

He rolled his eyes. "This 'modern' world is very odd..."

"I know, I know..."

He appraised me again. "Well, what is this 'legal drinking age'?"

"19, I think..."

And yet again. "You, I think, can easily pass for 19."

"Well, then there's the little matter of ID..."

This explanation took even longer, and I still don't think he really believed me. Finally, due to his constant nagging and my own desire to drink (I mean, hey, I wasn't arguing 'cause I didn't want to, just didn't want to get charged), I gave in, and into the drinking establishment we headed.

There was no problem at the door, it was just that perfect time of day when everyone's drunk, including (and especially) the employees. I was given only the most cursory of peering-s before we were waved through.

Enjolras and Donna, who had been following at a discreet distance, entered behind us, intending to apprehend us immediately. However, appraising the situation, they decided that they might be able to teach us a lesson, first. Then, much scorning and ridicule.

I had just reached that pleasant state of near fluid tipsiness, and Grantaire was well on his way to total inebriation, even for him, when the shift changed. I was happily discussing Greek mythology with Grantaire, and hardly noticed. The first sign of trouble was the highly intoxicated employee gesturing vaguely at us. After all, a man in 19th century clothing _does_ tend to stand out. The replacement stared at him, then at me, prolonging the glance and frowning. However, I was in happy happy Grantaire land, so I hardly noticed. Neither Grantaire, Enjolras, Donna or I saw the new employee go for the phone. Even if I had, I wouldn't have worried. After all, if my age was in doubt, they would simply request ID, and, finding none, would ask me to leave. So everyone's happy. This person, apparently, was exceptionally paranoid, and wanted to make sure their ass was covered. So he just skipped the middle man, and called the police.

About twenty minutes later, I dimly heard sirens, but ignored them. Until Javert walked in. Yes, Javert. He wasn't even wearing a police uniform, he was in his coat and top hat, but he had evidently driven. We both peered at him, with Grantaire, upon recognition, eeping and hiding under the table. I faced him, not being as well educated as Grantaire about Javert.

After a quick motion from the new barkeeper, Javert made his way over to us. I tried to look as sophisticated as possible, and as sober. Grantaire remained hidden. Planting himself firmly in front of me, and leaning down (rather a lot, as he was very tall, and I was sitting), he hissed at me, "How old are you?"

It was all I could do not to spit his pity right back in his face (I mean, laugh in his face...:D). From Javert, this was just too good. But, I managed to hold it in, with a little frantic breathing. "Um...six-um, nineteen..." Proving that I was a better 'spy' than Javert. (Even though I'm not a spy! Dah....)

He looked skeptical. "I would rather discourage lying to me, Mlle."

I flinched, hanging my head. "I'm sixteen...sorry, I'll leave..."

He smiled, his evil tiger smile, indeed showing all his gums. It was fairly disturbing. "No, Mlle., I'm afraid I will have to arrest you!" he even cackled a little, like Jori when she's pleased with herself. (sort of a little 'heh heh heh').

I looked incredulous. "For what?"

"Underage drinking."

"You can be arrested for that?"

"Yes. Especially if..." he reached under the table, hauling Grantaire into sight, "an adult is involved. Yes, clearly, you planned this, using this man as your unwitting—Grantaire? Oh ho, this _is_ perfect...I get to arrest a prostitute—"

I sputtered, eyes bulging. The patrons of the bar laughed, loudly and obnoxiously. "Wh-what?! Prostitute! I'm being arrested for underage _drinking_, let's keep it straight, huh? If you're going to arrest me, at least do it for the right reasons!" Blushing, I sat down again.

Javert nodded, slightly, scribbling in his notebook. He continued as if he hadn't heard, "—underage drinker, _and_ Grantaire...for something other than disturbing the peace. Ah, the prefect will be pleased."

I hadn't known Saskatoon had a prefect. Cool. Then again, Javert was there, who knew what was going on.

Although Grantaire thrashed a little, Javert's 'women's claws' (as in greater strength) quickly overwhelmed us, and he dragged us out to the waiting car, still grinning.

If we had bothered to glance behind, we would have seen Donna and Enjolras frantically chasing the car, waving their arms in a most un-Enjolras fashion. But, I was too mortified, Grantaire was too drunk, and we were both too afraid to do much more than stare at the floor. Interestingly, it was carpet, however it was so antiquated that the only discernable feature was the colour, a muddy reddish-brown. Even this couldn't be confirmed, as several reports state that this colour may simply have been years of accumulated filth. In any case, neither of us looked back.

Javert was filling out paperwork. He also seemed to be enjoying it, making him a majority of one (although, I will confess, I do occasionally enjoy my share of paperwork... :$). Grantaire was propped in one of those horrible plastic chairs, this one covered by a thin, ragged layer of orange...something. I was staring fixedly at Javert's pen, trying not to shake, but failing, mostly because of the alcohol. Sure. After what seemed like forever, Javert stood, indicating for us to follow. I had only been in the police station once before, and then only into the lobby. The place was even larger than I had imagined, and more terrifying. And smelly. It reminded me of the time my step-brothers had convinced me that I had dialed 911 when I dropped the phone, and the police were going to arrest me (true story. Explain much? :D), only this was real. He shoved us, none too gently, into a cell, happily slamming the door behind him, leaving only the sounds of reverberation (another word I like...) and his heavy, retreating footsteps.

Fortunately, the cell had no other occupants, and two small, grungy cots. Grantaire immediately fell into one, and I was only too glad to follow his example. It had been a _looong_ day...

After what seemed like minutes, but was really at least an hour, I heard the same boots returning. I assumed it was Javert, come to mock us, or something equally heinous, but was surprised to detect two other pairs of footsteps. Both sounded like they were stomping, in an "I'm pissed off!" way. With my incredible powers of...I'm not sure what...I suspected it was Donna, which probably meant the other pair was Enjolras. Sure enough, there were the three of them, peering in on our sorry little spectacle. I quickly poked Grantaire awake, trying to compose myself, while still looking pitiable and innocent. Both Enjolras and Donna were going at Javert with all the law they could muster. It didn't make any sense to me, and I doubted that it even meant anything to them, but Javert just looked frantic. With a final glower, he produced the keys, opened the lock with a mournful 'click', and released us. To two very, _very_ pissed off people. One of whom was Enjolras. And the other...well, was pretty much Enjolras too. After fixing both of us with their glares of death, Grantaire leapt for the door, attempting to close it again.

However, his reflexes, reaction time, and aim being somewhat off, he only succeeded in falling into Enjolras. Enjolras shoved back, the momentum sending both into the back wall of the miniscule cell, Grantaire pinned by Enjolras. Donna didn't waste time, she just went for my throat, being careful to avoid my teeth.

"How drunk are you?"

I grinned. "Not so drunk I need to be pinned, and not enough to bite."

Still glowering, but in a more playful way, she released me.

Enjolras stepped back, looking ready to murder if he wasn't separated from Grantaire...and me...immediately.

Donna soothed him a little, then waved her hand toward the door. Sinking our heads, we left the cell, thoroughly abashed and humbled.


End file.
